


Precarious

by Guess_This_Guest



Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: Anger, Babysitting, Confusion, Depression, F/M, Rating May Change, Romance, Thank you for supporting this work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23730265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guess_This_Guest/pseuds/Guess_This_Guest
Summary: After three months of no appearance, Roxanne finds him lying on her couch.“Good evening!” There’s a smirk playing on his blue lips.“Is this a kidnapping?” She’s supposed to be surprised. Surprised that he’s sitting here, alive. She’s supposed to run to him and— and hug him… just to make sure he’s really here. But if he does say that this is a kidnapping, oh, he’s gonna need more than a dehydration gun to stop her from wringing his slender neck.“Unfortunately, Miss Ritchi, it’s not.”
Relationships: Megamind/Roxanne Ritchi, Metro Man/Original Character(s)
Comments: 47
Kudos: 193





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> I love Megamind fandom. 
> 
> And for four years, I've been reading as much as I can. I always check this website and ff.net for new or updated stories every day. I've always wanted to write a Megamind fanfic but lack the confidence to even writing one. And I'm working on three Frozen fanfic (one on here, and three on ff.net). I don't know what came over me these last couple of days. Maybe it's the current pandemic but... 
> 
> Three days ago I started writing this, with no intention of posting this. 
> 
> Yesterday someone updated their story, keeping the fandom alive. 
> 
> Today, I said fuck it and post this. What harm could I do?

“...so I was thinking, you and me, to the movies, or, or maybe the Italian joint down the street from your place? You strike me as a meatball, spaghetti girl…”

Roxanne blinks. “Huh?”

“Movies or dinner? Or both?” Hal says as if he said it a thousand times (which… he probably did since Roxanne can’t recall when she noticed him there talking). 

“Oh, no thank you, Hal, I’m not feeling well tonight,” Roxanne says all too quickly, whilst arranging her papers on her desk, preparing to leave.

“Aww, but you said that last time. You not…” He looks around swiftly before he gets close to her personal space and whispers, “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

The stapler is right there. Right there on her desk, in her reach. She can either slap him with it or put a few staples in his cheek. But— 

“Oh! Hal, there you are!” The red-headed nuisance is saved by her savior. “Boss is looking for you. He said something about moving you up with the big boys,”

For reasons only known by the two girls, fear etched across his face and he dashes to the boss’s office (being promoted means being away from Roxanne, and of course, he doesn’t want that).

“Thanks, Marilyn,” Roxanne says, pushing the stapler away, and grabbing her purse. 

“No problemo!” the woman says in a cheery tone. “I saw your fingers tip-toeing to the stapler. We wouldn’t want anything to cost you your job, right? Even though he probably deserves it.”

“I guess,” she shrugs and begins to move for the elevator. If she hurries home, pop open a bottle of wine, eat toast, and watch crappy reruns of comedy shows, she can go to sleep ((hopefully)).

“Allow me to give you a lift home,” Marilyn suggests, walking next to her. “And before you say _it’s all right, I’ll catch a cab_ , we gotta talk.”

“About?” The elevator doors opened and the women stepped in, pressing the star button.

“Well, I don’t if everyone else has noticed, but you have been in the… dumps lately.” Marilyn says. “I can see behind that mask you’re wearing. I think I know what it is,”

Roxanne bites her bottom lip. Besides her family, Marilyn knows her the best. So perhaps Marilyn really knows what’s up. Deep down inside, Roxanne didn’t want to talk about this now. Not ever. Whilst they make their way to the Legendary Truck (as Marilyn names it for being the only one in Metro City with over 100 speeding tickets)(and only paid five), Roxanne tries to not dread the possible questions her friend will ask. 

Ten minutes of driving, Marilyn clears her throat. “You think he’s dead?”

It absolutely catches her off. “ _Don’t_ say that,” she says softly, knowing exactly who she is talking about. She looked at her neatly folded hands in her lap. He isn’t dead. He _can’t_ be dead. She swats away all thoughts that hints a possible demise. 

“I don’t think so,” Marilyn declares in an optimistic tone. “A guy like that wouldn’t go down that easy.”

It’s odd hearing someone subtly compliment the villain as such. Then again, Marilyn isn’t the type to shy away from sharing what she really thinks about a person. 

“I would have figured he would’ve contacted you or something,” she continues. 

“He doesn’t have my number…” She mumbles. She doesn’t even know if he has a cellar device. 

“Probably doesn’t have a phone— _FUCK!_ ” Marilyn takes a sharp turn and sticks her head out the window. “Watch it, you pompous asshole!” She returns her head in the car and in a softer tone she tells Roxanne, “I think he’s okay. Just alone. Y’know being an alien and all. Come to think about it, we’re all aliens to him— but _you’re_ not an alien to him. So maybe… he might come back, you know. For you. Maybe not for this city. But definitely for you. Like a sign or something.” Marilyn stares at the nightly sky for a moment. 

“The road, Lyn,” Roxanne says. 

“Oh sorry.” Her attention returns to the road. “But really. He wouldn’t forget you. Or you know, use those skills of yours and actually go find him. I can help.” Marilyn is known for being the best tracker of famous people in the city. She shares the work to whatever reporter she deems is fit for the situation. “Sooooo, whaddya say?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“At least it’s not a no. I just don’t like my best friend like this. It’s like… your life has stopped. And maybe it _did_ — with all the kidnapping and stuff being the daily thing in your life. And now… it’s like the best part of you is gone.”

He is gone. not dead though. He’s missing. 

“You’re lost, Roxanne.” 

“I’m… I’m…” she tries to think of a counter-response to that. But what if she is lost? Without him. A rush of anger rushes through her. Surely Roxanne didn’t depend on two aliens to make _her_ life…. Yes, they were… _essential_ to her work life, and Metro Man is a true friend of hers, but Megamind… she can’t figure out how to label him. He’s something a part of her life. Something meaningful.

She can’t accept that he's… not alive. The thought is unfathomable. Marilyn is right. Megamind couldn’t go down after one punch. Even if that punch was too hard. Harder than she has ever seen the superhero delivered. “Wayne didn’t pull back his punch,” she shares. 

“And that has never kept Megamind from getting back up with a new scheme.” Like some of the wisest in Metro City, Marilyn knows that the game between the superhero and supervillain. And she’s right again. Megamind always gets back up with something new. 

The drive is quiet, besides the occasional mini-road rage from her friend. Abruptly stopping in front of her apartment, Roxanne takes the seatbelt off and gets out of the car with her purse.

“So coffee tomorrow? It’s on you,” Marilyn smirks.

“Uh—”

“Say yes, goose.” She demanded in a motherly tone.

Roxanne can’t help to give a small smile. “Yes, moose.” Marilyn grins. When Roxanne shuts the passenger door, her best friend speeds off like a maniac late for an appointment. Hopefully, she doesn’t get a speeding ticket. As the car gets further and further, so does that brief good feeling. With a sigh and sunken shoulders, tiredness settles in her as she makes her way to the elevator.

* * *

Lights are on and that should be the first sign that something is off. But she’s too tired to notice. She shrugs off her coat and hangs it on the hanger. She drops the keys in the cup holder and makes her way through the hallway, further inside her place. What she sees makes her halt dead in her tracks, jaw almost hitting the floor. 

He’s just… lying there. On her sofa. Arms folded comfortably behind that large head of his. He’s wearing… normal clothes, something she’s seeing for the first in time in all these years, rather than that skin-tight leather suit. Granted the clothes (long sleeve shirt, and skinny jeans) are all black. The shirt a little faded, hinting that it’s an old shirt. His boots— the only thing from his popular costume— is propped up on a stack of (her!) sofa pillows. 

“Good evening!” There’s a smirk playing on his blue lips. 

“Is this a kidnapping?” She’s supposed to be surprised. Surprised that he’s sitting here, _alive._ She’s supposed to run to him and— and _hug_ him… just to make sure he’s really here. But if he does say that this is a kidnapping, oh, he’s gonna need more than a dehydrating gun to stop her from wringing his slender neck. 

“Unfortunately, Miss Ritchi, it’s not.”

“Then why— why are you _here_ ?” Her voice is light. Airy. _What took you so long_? Because she has been waiting… right?

He shrugs. “Nowhere else to go.” His gaze turns to the television. She can hear the voice of Dr. Phil explaining his point of view to his guests and audience. Roxanne notices how…. at _peace_ (if that’s the right word) Megamind is. Especially without his villain suit on. Or maybe this is just for a show. To get her guards down.

“Nowhere else to go, huh,” she repeats, looking around to see if Minion will pop out of his hiding space with a shaking spray can. 

“Not a kidnapping, Miss Ritchi.”

“ _Why_?”

“It’s… counterproductive.” 

_Counterproductive_. He wants something. But what could he want after all these three months of no show?

“Why don’t you sit down?” he says in an even tone, removing his feet off the pillows and sitting up.

Oh yes, she is very tired because here she is, feet moving and her bottom settling on the sofa, on the other far end from him. She’s not apprehensive with the supervillain _calmly_ watching television in normal clothes, that fits him perfectly beside his slim body. If anything, her curiosity matches her tiredness. But she’s going to be safe from her curiosity. 

“All of Metro City thinks you’re dead,” she shares. 

He hums without looking at her. “Well, as you can see, I’m the flesh!” He wiggles his fingers. He’s wearing gloves, and she tries to think of a time when he’s not wearing them. Something also tells her that maybe he knows that the city is… kinda _mourning_ for him. Not an obvious mourning, but the boredom and meaningless of day to day life. 

Come to think about it, she can admit she was, perhaps, mourning. 

“Yeah, as _I_ can see.”

“I trust your vision is perfectly well. I also trust that you won’t exploit my well being. Not that Metrocity cares.”

If only he knew. “If you tell me why you’re here,” Bargaining is something she doesn't do often to get information. Drawing information is a talent of hers without the quid pro quo.

“Nowhere else to go,” he repeats.

“And I was the only option?”

He finally looks at her. Roxanne stops breathing for a moment. His eyes, still the same but… she misses them. Obviously she can’t say that. “Minion is…” His tone hitches. Eyebrows narrow, he tries to work out the words. Roxanne patiently waits. “I decided it was best to separate, of course, for some time. Completely my idea.” He adds for good measure.

Roxanne tilts her head, unphased. He’s being a terrible liar. But she won’t press on it despite how vague his response is. She’ll figure it out later. Megamind makes a noise between a huff and a chuckle before returning to the television. His head… there isn’t a colored mark on the spot where Wayne had punched him. This behavior he’s currently showing could be a possible result of a concussion, but he seems fine. Just to make sure… “Did it hurt, when he punched you?”

“Who? Oh! Yes,” he says softly, eyes on the floor now. “I’ve recovered—”

“Immediately afterward?” she interrupts. “I… I didn’t see you _move_ after that punch. The cameras just cut off.” And she knows this because she did watch the recorded live footage. Minion had a face of shock and worry. 

He gives her a strange look. “I’m _fine_ Miss Ritchi.”

Roxanne looks at the wooden floors. He’s fine. He’s fine if he says so. She knows there is more going on in that head of his. “How long do you plan to stay here?” she asks. Not that she entirely believes it’s a good thing to host a supervillain in her home. It’s just… if he’s here… he’s not dead. If he’s here… next to her… then she is okay. But he can’t know that she was… missing him. 

“I don’t know,” he answers in a soft tone.

She hums. She hopes it’s not long. And she hopes it’s not short. Just enough time to figure him out. It has something to do with his henchfish. Was there a feud? Does Minion know that Megamind is here in her apartment? 

“Do you have food?” he abruptly says. 

His question brings a growl in her tummy. She sighs and pulls out her phone. Scrolling through the list of contacts she picks one and makes a call.

* * *

The doorbell rings and Roxanne gets up and stretches. No need to tell him to stay where he is, as she makes her way to retrieve their food. 

Settling the boxes down on the coffee table, Megamind excitedly sits up. “Pizza!” Roxanne hums in agreement with a small smile on her face. She tells herself the smile is because of the pizza. But…. it’s like he’s a little kid. Or like the times he was having fun monologuing his latest invention. That glee in his eyes. It’s in there now. It should always be there. “Oh! I do hope you got spinach and salmon bits.”

“Salmon bits?” She goes into the kitchen and pulls out two glass cups and a wine bottle. Yes, it’s Monday. And yes this isn’t a special occasion…. (maybe it is. the knowledge that he’s alive…)

“Yes— aww, no salmon bits, but pineapples are a good choice. I’ll just pluck these off.” He’s picking off the chicken bits.

They’re in comfortable silence, chewing on pizza and (she, not him) drinking wine (he opt for water from the tap). He’s completely absorbed what’s on television. She pretends to watch. She sees Dr. Phil talking to his guests. There are just figures talking to the audience. Sounds aren’t there. Her ears are focused on the sounds coming from him. Silently eating and breathing. 

After finishing, she stretches and collects the boxes to throw away in the bin. She's a bit tipsy. “I’m going to bed. Turn off the lights when you’re done.”

Shower can hold on till the morning. She slips out of her work shoes and clothes and puts on something light to sleep in. She slides into her bed. Staring at the ceiling, she thanks God, or whoever is listening in a hushed whisper. He’s here. Not dead. Not dead. Alive. And he’s here in her living-room. Watching television. Roxanne flutters her eyes close.

She won’t lie. Tonight might be the night she'll be able to get good rest. 

“I need a bed.”

Her eyes pop opened. She bolts up. He’s _in_ her room. On the other side of the bed. _In her room._ Roxanne glares at him. “This isn’t a hotel.”

“No, but for now this is an establishment providing accommodations such as food and television. I assume a bed would be included.”

“You get to sleep on the couch.”

“But my boots were all over them. And your bed is a queen size, approximately sixty inches by width. Enough space to fit two people without touching. _As_ you can see.” He proceeded to lift the blankets and _slide her bed_. “Enough to roll over without touching me.”

Anger begins to rise and tiredness overcomes it. Taking one of the pillows from under her head, she slams it down between them as a border. “My side. Your side.” She lies back down, making sure she back is facing him. 

A villain. in her. bed. _Megamind_ in her bed. Sleeping _with_ her. She knows he wouldn’t do anything to disrespect her privacy… but… who knows. “I can yell for Metroman if you try anything.”

“Wouldn’t risk it Miss Ritchi,” he says softly.

She tries to not be so tense. Keeping an ear on his breathing evening out. He’s asleep in no time. Roxanne thinks she will never get a satisfying rest. Especially not with _him_ , sleeping inches away from her. Sleep puts a person in a very vulnerable state. She's defenseless.... and so is he... and he knows this... 

Eventually, Roxanne falls asleep also.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh! you guys are giving this story a chance! And I'm really happy about that! It's pushing my confidence to write under this fandom. Thanks to all who pressed kudos and commented! 
> 
> this chapter is a bit long.

Waking up, she half expects that last night was only a dream. That she didn’t see him in normal clothes. That he didn’t eat pizza with her. That he didn’t climb into bed with her. When she slowly rolls over, she bites her lip. He’s still there, albeit back facing her, but he’s still here and breathing. She has the urge to touch his big bald blue head, just to make sure he’s here. Like _really_ here. That might be a bad move if she touches him. He may get up, alarmed ((and ruin this secure moment of relief)) so she relies on her eyes to tell her the truth. And what she sees is enough to tell her that. 

She turns on her back. Warmth is blooming in her chest. Are those tears?— yes! Yes, it is. Tears are brewing at the corner of her eyes. And there's a small smile growing on her lips. 

Her clock says 8:39 am. Less than an hour and a half for coffee with Marilyn. She turns off her 9 am alarm and gets ready for the day. 

Usually, it’s just a long shower (if she hadn’t taken one last night), light makeup, and a randomly chosen outfit. This morning, a quick warm shower and she takes her time with the rest of her tasks. It’s _not_ because she’s hoping that he’ll wake up and she’ll see him and the vibrant green of his eyes. Of course, that’s not the reason. _Definitely_ not. She’s 100% sure that’s not the reason why she continues to glance at him as she applies her make-up, fixing her hair in her room (something she would rather do in the bathroom). 

He doesn’t even roll over.

Time is almost up before she has to meet up with Marilyn. And he still isn’t up. Maybe he’s not a morning person— when he is not on a plot. Roxanne thinks she should wake up just to tell him there’s cereal and (hopefully not expired) milk in the kitchen. And then with some annoyance at herself, Roxanne realizes that he is a grown man. She is not a _babysitter_. She should probably be more worried about the state of her home rather than the state of his hunger.

Grabbing a notepad and a pen, she scribbles two sentences and carefully places it on his body, before leaving. 

_Don’t destroy my place!_

_And boots off the sofa!_

* * *

“Wow. You look different!” 

“Is it a good different?” Roxanne asks, sliding into the booth with her hot steaming coffee.

“It’s _I just had mind-blowing sex last night_ ,” Marilyn says in a dreamy tone. “You could’ve asked me!”

Roxanne burst into giggles. Though she hasn’t actively pursued her, Marilyn is very flirty with Roxanne and her close friends. It’s just one of the few quirks about her. 

Eyes slightly widening, Marilyn rests her folded arms on the table. “So you did, huh?”

“No! Not at all.” Well, she did sleep with someone… Not that she’s picturing anything sexual with the villain (even in her most wildest dreams). And not that she will tell anyone, even her best friend, he’s currently in her apartment… with normal clothes on.

“Oh, my dear Roxanne! When was the last time you got laid?”

A blush forms on her cheek. “...two years ago…?” She doesn’t even know when she looked at another man with such thought. She hasn’t had the time to do so with all the kidnappings, interviews, reporting, and helping others with their blogs. Besides, there’s only been three significant males in her life. Two of them are aliens. And one of them is her father.

“We are going out tonight!” declares Marilyn, putting a finger up.

“It’s a Tuesday,” she deadpans. 

“We are going out on Saturday!”

Roxanne smiles, shaking her head, and sips on her coffee. “It’s fine.” Because she _is_ fine. What had her in the dumps is fixed now. She just needs a little information. And a little more time to get comfortable with the fact he’s in her apartment with normal clothes. 

“To hell! Look, goose, I was serious that we could go look for him. And we can! But that doesn’t mean you have to pause your life. What if that’s what he’s giving you? A chance to breathe without two superpowered beings fighting over you.”

Roxanne glances at the coffee in her hand. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to go out. There are a lot of reasons why it would be a bad idea to not go out. For starters, she would continue that idea of her life being paused. Or that she’s lost. And Marilyn being right about situations like this, means she’ll do everything she can in her power to fix things. Another thought, Roxanne can’t really hide big things from Marilyn. And Megamind is the presence you consider small. It’ll be a matter of time before she knows there’s something going on in her apartment. Oh god, that does not paint a pretty picture in Roxanne’s head. Marilyn somehow in her apartment, finding the blue alien watching television. Or Wayne making a surprise visit on her balcony and finding the missing supervillain. 

So going out and not be “lost” or “paused” can help diverge any suspiciousness from her best friend. She doesn’t think she needs to worry about Wayne being suspicious. “I have to buy an outfit,”

Marilyn does an air pump in the air.

* * *

Desk work has never been exciting. But she got used to it during those three months ((without him)). It was better than editing reports or conducting an interview about the missing villain. When pondering over those times, she thinks of herself as a horrible person. Talking excitedly about the future of the city now that he’s gone or if he was planning something big. Despite it being on her mind, she never showed her worry. Nor the city. They all felt it though. And they all slipped into an unsaid mourning. 

What now? with him ~~living~~ being in her apartment. A small, teeny-tiny of her wants to share the news that Megamind is indeed alive, not dead, and he’s okay, in the city and that he’s wearing casual clothes. It would definitely be a great headline. Especially _Megamind, vacationing in the home of his kidnappee!_

She's gonna have to take cautious measures to make sure that no one can find out he’s there in her place. Roxanne creates a list in her head. As she does, she doodles on a sticky note. A security system is a smart choice. Funny how she didn’t need it when she was first being kidnapped. She never found a reason to. Too expensive anyway. 

Curtains. She never really used the ones on her glass doors that separate the insides and her balcony. Privacy is always met in her bedroom or bathroom. She’ll have to make use of the curtains— just in case residents of neighboring apartments decide to take a peek inside and discover the blue alien. Speaking of privacy— maybe she should get a blowup bed so she can have her privacy back. She still can’t get over the fact that he slept in the same bed as her. She knows that passing _that_ line of personal space is familiar with Megamind. All those times, he would be lick away from her face, his voice going lower and lower, words slower. And she would wait, breath held with anticipation…. He wouldn’t feel weird, slipping into the bed of Roxanne Ritchi ((right?)) A knock on her desk startles her from her thoughts. She looks up to see a goofy look on Marilyn’s face. Oh, god, what now? “Meeting in five minutes,” her best friend shares. “Boss is _livid_.”

* * *

Livid the boss was. The number of viewers had dropped dramatically. And though no one wanted to say it, the reason is most likely _her_ not being kidnapped. Annoyance flared through her. Fuck everyone who thinks that! It’s not like she can go to him and _demand_ to be kidnapped for the sake of her job's ratings. 

She did offer solutions. More interviews with big stars. Even one with Metro Man. She only saw him during the first month of no show from Megamind. He was doing good… last time she spoke to him. Part of her ((still)) blames him for Megamind’s disappearance. 

Even with everyone’s suggestions, it didn’t wave Fred’s anger. He wants something new. Exciting! Dangerous situations, he doesn’t say, but the entire team knows he wants it. Roxanne was perfect, giving content fitting that category. And viewers loved it. 

“Four months,” Frank says. “I want _everything_ to bring our views up. We’re number two! Do you know what second place means?”

“First loser!” Marilyn shouts, raising her hand. Roxanne kicks her. Applause for Marilyn for feeding on other people’s strong emotions. 

Surprisingly the boss didn’t go up in flames when her best friend said that. The team laughs and Fred just shakes his head with the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. “Well I wasn’t going to say that, but it’s better. You’re all dismissed.”

* * *

Arriving home, she kinda expects him to be gone. Flip flops are in her stomach as she turns her key in the lock. Despite her note— what mayhem will she be met when she enters? Inside now, she shrugs off her jacket and places her keys in the bowl. She inhales slowly, mentally preparing herself for what’s to come— 

to her surprise, it’s the same as yesterday. Lying on her on the sofa. Head tilted to the side to watch more talk shows. One arm propped behind his head, and the other resting on his tummy. Feet (protected by black socks) are on her sofa. He took the note literally, which is a slight improvement. She should have made it specific, _feet off the couch_ , not just boots. He has on a different shirt. Dark blue this time. Long sleeves still. The black skinny jeans are similar to yesterday. She briefly wonders if he has a suitcase around here. He hasn’t noticed her arrival yet; the blankness in his eyes tells her that he’s hardly paying attention to the television.

“Hey,” she says softly, not wanting to startle him. He blinks away from whatever is occupying his mind, green eyes landing on her. 

“Ollo,” he greets, matching her tone. He sits up, freeing the space on the sofa. She sits on the sofa. Maury is playing. Headline screaming: _I was adopted, he’s not my father!_ Families are torn whether the unwilling orphan is the son of a cancer-affected father. The audience with their _awws_ and _boos_ is a bit cringy to Roxanne. She turns to Megamind, who is frowning at the screen. Is… Is this hitting close to home? 

“Are you okay?” she asks, scanning his blue face. She pays more attention to his ears. They are uniquely shaped. 

“Yes,” He doesn't even look at her. 

Oh okay— she doesn’t like this. This— quiet Megamind with troubles on his mind. This melancholy… “You know,” she starts, a bit uncertain if she should offer, “if you need to talk, I’m— I’m here.” She is certain it would be too much if she reaches out and grip his shoulder or a limb for reassurance.

Megamind glances at her quickly, and almost automatically, as if he was practicing just in case she (or anyone) would ask that he says, “Yes, thank you.”

She feels some sense of dejection. Roxanne gets up, leaving her jacket on the sofa. She ventures to the kitchen checking the cabinet and fridge for something to eat. Unless he returned them to its exact spot, the milk and cereal weren’t touched. Intuitively, she’s certain he hasn’t moved from the spot on the sofa he got there. 

“Do you want something to eat?” she calls out, stretching her neck to see him. Still looking at tv. “I could order more pizza?” Pizza, two nights in the row is a poor choice. She can order Chinese food. “Chinese?”

He makes a lazy wave motion of his hand. That— that makes her angry. She has half the mind to scream _I’m not your minion_ and throws a cup at his head. She has to remind herself that there are bigger issues than him being as he is. So she makes a call to a restaurant and places her order. Thirty minutes, they say, when they will deliver their food. 

She goes to her room, retrieves some long comfy pajamas. In the bathroom, she finds extra toiletries, a black electric toothbrush, sitting like a sore thumb in the cupholder. He really fancies the color black. She finds a variety of soaps and body wash. As she washes up, Roxanne took the pleasure to smell each one. They all smell nice. He uses them, but too much for the scent to be obvious. She’ll have to silently be more aware of his scent, next time she is around him. 

After her shower and changing into her pajamas, Roxanne is going downstairs. You can guess it, he’s still anchored to his spot. The difference is a rerun of a show she doesn’t recognize, is on. Not after five minutes of taking a seat, someone is knocking on the door. She gets up. Megamind makes no hint of noticing her movements as she takes some money out of her jacket pocket. 

Exchanging food for money, Roxanne decides it’s best to eat at the island table. To get him away from the television and the forced laughter in the background (she never understood the purpose of that tactic). The food and utensils are set. He— yet— doesn’t move. She calls out his name _twice_ before he stands and sluggishly takes his seat at the table. 

Roxanne digs in her food. And two whole minutes, Megamind is staring at his food, something obviously troubling him, before he picks up his fork. “What’s wrong?” she blurts out and he jumps eyes wide, and the fork gripped tightly. “Don’t say _nothing_ — what’s wrong?” she asks again. 

“I— I don’t eat meat— well, I do, I’m a… pescatarian,” he replies, pushing his plate away. 

Three emotions: annoyed because he is partly _bullshitting_. Guity because she should have asked him what he would fancy from the restaurant. Foolishly because she should have deduced that he’s a vegetarian or something from his actions with last night's dinner. Annoyed again because she’s not a babysitter or a mother, and shouldn’t feel lumbered into that job. 

“I didn’t know,”

“Of course, you and everyone else," he murmurs in a bitter tone.

Roxanne points to a brown bag, “spring egg rolls are in there. They are… vegetarian. And you can have some of my broccoli,” Roxanne tips her carton towards. He shakes his head and opts for the spring rolls. 

Dinner is silent for the remaining time. Of course, Megamind finishes first and drinks water from the tap. He then goes back to the sofa, back to the television. Roxanne cleans when she is full. She also drinks water from the tap until she can’t stomach anymore. Resting her cup down, she wipes her mouth when a knock is on the door.

Frowning, because she doesn’t get visitors this late at night, she goes to answer the door. “Miss Gloria?”

“Roxanne my dear. The mailman has done it again. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” The older woman makes a move to enter her apartment (for a friendly chat), but Roxanne steps forward, blocking her doorway.

“Oh, no, not at all, I was just about to sleep— early day tomorrow— those are mine, yes?” She gently takes her mail.

“You don’t do any more reporting, right? That blue fellow really quit kidnapping you?”

“Um—”

“Good. You need a break, and he needs a new hobby. He can’t keep interrupting others’ lives for his entertainment. He needs a life.”

It was all of Metro City's entertainment that kept the city alive and buzzing. Metro City is his life; She wants to say that. But a loud crack prevents her. She desperately tries not to look behind her, but that invisible sensation pulls her to do so. And she can see a light orange glow.

“What was that?” Miss Gloria attempts to peek behind her.

“Nothing. Thanksformymail, haveagoodday,” Roxanne rushes out, closing the door and locking the bolts. She runs and skids a stop. Fire. Her television. Is. On. Fire. “ _Megamind_!” she gasps. And he’s here still, standing. With his De-gun aimed at the tv. Her television. Immediately she acts just before her alarm blares overhead. She overrides the system from the box on her wall so her alarm won’t trigger the entire complex building. Then she goes to the kitchen, rips the fire extinguisher, and begins to spray the fire.

Once the thick foam covers the television, Roxanne settles the extinguisher on the floor. Her heart— god, it’s like it's galloping in her chest. She realizes Megamind remains in the stance she saw him, frozen in time. Tentatively, she inches closer to him. Is he broken? 

The blue alien finally blinks his way out of his trance. He sees her. And then the tv. And lastly his gun in hand. He says one thing that pushes her closer to the line to _‘just strangle him’_ “Aw, the tv is ruined.”

“Go to sleep,” she snarls. She’s not a babysitter. She’s not a mother. She’s _not_ a babysitter. She’s _not_ a mother. 

His eyes widen. Maybe in shock at her demand. “But—”

“GO TO BED!” 

Nevertheless, he turns for the stairs. “Leave the gun,” she says.

He opens his mouth to say something else but decides against it when she sharpens her glare. Megamind tosses the gun on the sofa and goes upstairs.

Roxanne let go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She picks up the de-gun and puts it in so far in the back of the fridge. He’ll never guess it’s in there. Her hands are trembling. Her heart is still beating excitedly. She hasn’t... felt like this in a long time. The only thing that’s absent is the sensation of _thrills_ . Her tv— although he barely used it, it’s still a purchase she made. Why did he do it? Did something on the television trigger him? One joke from those sitcoms? She curls her hands to her chest, trying to will her heart to slow down. She can’t be angry with him. He’s… _hurting_? If that’s the word to describe him. He’s hurting. He’s troubled. He’s not _fine_. She already told herself that she will find out the whys and whats. And that requires… patience. 

But she’s damn sure she's not going to clean up his mess. She’ll make sure to leave cleaning products for him to use when she wakes in the morning work. Now to think of calming things: Roxanne and her mother going to the park. Playing chess with her father. Arguing with her aunts. Green eyes. The sounds the busy city night. That goofy evil laugh. The low tone he uses for his theatrics... Her heart rate is back to normal now, tiredness settling down to replace bodily stimulation. Roxanne wants him to be asleep before she lies in her bed. But she’s so tired.

Turning off all the light, she takes a glance at her ruined tv. In her room, she finds him lying in the bed. He props himself up on his elbows. “Don’t say anything,” she tells him. Roxanne set herself on her side. She can feel his eyes tracking every movement of hers. He’s debating if he should say something or keep quiet. “Is just a tv.”

She feels him lie back down after some deliberation. Her conscious informs her he will not be able to sleep easily. Powered by guilt and… shame maybe. But she already said her piece. It's just a tv. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know ya thought! *sends internet cookies*


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> First, I tried updating this story three days ago, however, my story wasn't showing up on the top of the queue as recently updated. So if ya reading this and it's not on the top, I'm sorry. Idk if it's a03 bugging or if I have done something wrong. 
> 
> secondly: WHOA--- I can't describe the feeling I have right now. Over 600 hits and 70 kudos. I would have never guessed I would gain that achievement with only ~two~ chapters. Not even half of those numbers. You all are amazing. I swear y'all are! 
> 
> Thirdly, this chapter is positively long, but a treat for the long wait.

Roxanne finds herself split with the desire to be home and to be at work. To be home means to be with Megamind. His presence isn’t the type to ignore. Supervillain whose behavior is completely out of his norms. Granted, he’s quiet— albeit _too_ quiet. It makes her slightly doubt his purpose for being here. That he’s really here to play a role for a larger scheme. But… it’s just him watching television. (—yes, yes, she yielded a few hundred dollars for a brand new tv (only after he cleaned up the mess, of course) that has more features than the ruined one). The talk shows and comedic shows dictated by (forced) background laughter are driving her insane. and he makes absolutely _no_ indications that he’s actually enjoying it! She couldn’t wait to be at work. It gave her a sense of privacy since she lost that by sharing sleeping places with him. 

To be at work means to be… _bored_ . This is _new_ boredom she’s experiencing. Newer than the three months of his absence— though come to think about it, _concern_ was the ruling emotion. Megamind is here (in her apartment), physically fine, which abates one problem but births another: _what is wrong with him_ ? This helps a little with her boredom— (and god! patience is going to be something she needs grasps immediately)— but not during work. She feels out of place. Whilst everyone fish and fumbles around for new exciting stories, she remains obligated to editing blogs, articles, and research. She won't feel right going out and doing physical reporting. It’s not the same (and Hal is becoming more and more a nuisance with his crush). There's a promise that Megamind will _not_ come out of the apartment with a new plot. And she’s already offered to set up an interview with Metro Man. Another problem that she has to deal with; she doesn’t _want_ to talk to him. Not right now. Not soon, but for the sake of her job’s ratings, she has too. So whilst she deals with this tedium and feelings misplaced, she sits and silently works, absent-mindedly thankful for the presence of others. It’s just… she’d count down the time until she could go home and see Megamind. 

Yes, yes, she knows, it’s confusing. To want to get away from him and then to see him again. She is torn by this. She tells herself the most important thing is that he’s here. He’s alive. With her. The electricity bill might be steadily rising— and it may suck that she has to share _her_ bed every night— and the delivery guy must be getting suspicious of the frequent orders (a twenty-dollar tip shoved in his face should shut the teen up)— but that's okay. It's _okay._ She makes sure there is cereal and fresh milk in the kitchen. Something effortless for him to make, without destroying her kitchen. She’s genuinely grateful when she comes home to find everything intact. Yet seeing him be a— a _couch potato_ is really worrisome.

He would greet her with the ‘good evening, Miss Ritchi.” She would simply respond 'hey'. In the later hours, she would suggest a dinner idea, which he wordlessly agrees. And that was pretty much it. Roxanne wants to say that he’s completely absorbed in the stories of dysfunctional families to even make a conversation with her, but really, there’s no reaction on his face. She knows he’s paying attention, at the least, because of his eyes tracking the movements on the television, eyebrows tweaking at certain outrageous actions or words. Yesterday Roxanne made it a habit to ask if he ate anything besides cereal which he said no. It made her feel a tad guilty so she takes it to one of her tasks this weekend to buy some food for him. 

The first task is steadily reminding herself that she is not a babysitter.

* * *

“Theme for tonight, _I'm single and want fun_!” Marilyn viewing a pink dress from the rack. Roxanne slightly cringes at the theme. It was one of the headlines on Jerry Springer's show Megamind was watching. The episode featured the trashiest ladies she has ever seen. Her curiosity won and she sat down to watch the show for a while. “Definitely something red and sparkly— like this one!” Marilyn continues. 

It’s a nice dress. A dress that screams libido. Any daring movement will definitely show off more than she intends. She's not _that_ desperate. “I don’t know, Lyn…”

“Too whorish? Yeah you right,” She returns the dress on the rack and moves on. Shopping with Marilyn is like taking a rich spoiled kid to a candy shop. Roxanne feels like a mother, having to remind her best friend about budgets, overspending, and buying unnecessary things. Despite that, spending time with Marilyn is enjoyable. 

Roxanne gasps when her best friend suddenly hugs her. “Oh! This is so fun! We haven’t done this in months!” Marilyn squeezes her tighter. 

Roxanne hugs her back. Because, really, she misses this too. She misses a lot, she realizes. “I’m glad we can do this,” 

Shopping takes another hour, half of that was watching a small performance from a team of acrobats and a quick trip to the grocery store for a few things. Roxanne had found a new red dress, one to dance in and not accidentally show off too much, and matching red strappy stilettos to match with it. She'll have to tell herself to have fun tonight. A few fun drinks should aid her. 

She— kinda _dreads_ entering her home. And that’s ridiculous because this is _her_ place. She shouldn’t feel this way… but

it’s the first weekend that she will spend with Megamind (until tonight when she goes out of course, but only tonight. There’s Sunday too…). She stands at her door, hesitating to use her key. When she woke, he was still sleeping, though without the blankets over his body (he had on gray pajamas, with small little tools on it. Roxanne thought it was… rather cute). 

She guesses that he’ll be on the sofa watching television again. That shouldn’t be a problem? Well besides his presence is the elephant in the room, nope. She can simply do some reading or sketch while listening to music. Or maybe not, in the comfort that she isn’t sharing her bed. 

So maybe, she should move. Enter her apartment… say a little greeting. Ask if he has eaten anything while she was out, then, take a nap— 

The door opens. Her eyes increase in size. He frowns, scanning around her, and then landing his green eyes on her blue ones. “You were standing there for three minutes, aren’t you coming in?” He leaves the door open, walking further in for her to follow. She shakes her head, and moves her feet, closing and locking the door behind them. 

She drops her bags next to the couch. He’s at the island table. He just made coffee. She can smell it in the air and there’s a mug on the counter. Her coffee machine has a lot of buttons and it would take someone manual instructions on paper to understand what they're doing. Of course, Megamind would figure it out without aid. “Someone could’ve heard you. Or worse, _saw_ you,” she hisses, advancing towards him. “You need to be careful.”

He smirks at her. “Why Miss Ritchi! I did not know you cared about my safety and presumed death,”

 _Not the latter!_ , she wants to scream in his face. She only rolls her eyes, which makes him smirks even more. “I can’t afford to explain why a supervillain is in my apartment with _pajamas_ on.”

His cheeks turn bright pink. Oh god, she made him blush! And it’s adorable. Roxanne grins in victory, glancing at his dark pajamas. “Touche, although I’m sure _you’ll_ have a fun time explaining why _I’m—”_ He points to his big head. “— here.”

“I _will_ next time you decide to risk yourself with our embarrassments.” 

He grins abruptly. Definitely doesn’t reach his eyes. “That’s a challenge, Miss Ritchi!” He turns and opens the freezer. More than likely he hasn’t found his gun. But there’s a chance. Under the sofa is a nice hiding space. Megamind turns around with a tray of ice. He proceeds to drop all the cubes in his hot steaming mug.

 _“What are you doing_?” He’s wasting her expensive coffee beans! that’s what he’s doing. 

“Making ice coffee,” he replies nonchalantly.

“With the ice, in hot liquid—” 

“I require something cold now and then.”

“That is _not_ how you make iced coffee”

“The people on television did it.” Megamind places the tray on the counter and swirls his probably-melted ice in the mug. “And I tried cooling it, but the taste isn’t the same.” 

She shakes her head and pinches the bridge of her nose. “You need—” _a new hobby._ But that would give Miss Gloria’s words warrancy. “To stop watching tv. It rots the brain.” 

He scoffs. “This brain will _never_ rot, Miss Ritchi. You of all people should know that,”

At least the small arrogant side is starting to show after days of his odd quietness. She shakes her head to hide a small smile. “If you need to, just lower the temperature.” She usually has the temperature to 80 degrees. “Your coffee might be watery.”

He whines. “I don’t want it anymore.” 

Roxanne _had_ to turn around and move when Megamind proceeds to pour out the soiled coffee in the sink before she says anything out of her control. She put away the small groceries, listing things in her mind. Definitely more coffee. chocolate syrup, creamer, and whip cream. Other foods. Something she can cook. Obviously she can’t continue to eat delivery food every night. She once read an article on how frequently eating fast food can contribute to depression and irritability. So more food to put on the list. In addition, she should look up meals fit for a pescatarian. On anxiety of her weight, Roxanne once went vegan during her college. She learned that there’s a lot of effort to maintain that diet— and not the quickest way to lose weight (as she learned that it’s okay to be curvy). Pescartian diet should be easy to maintain. Does he cook? Or have Minion cook for him like a… well servant. She tells herself she will not be a servant for him. No matter what. She will only cook because it’s healthy. because she wants to. He’s an extra plate because it’s the nice thing to do. 

Groceries are placed. She has a pot of hot water for tea. Roxanne heads upstairs to her room. She lays her outfit down on (her side of) the bed. She changes into long pajamas and a large sweater. She goes back downstairs, only to stop in the hallway and adjust the thermostat. 73 degrees shouldn’t be unbearable for her. Roxanne makes her tea, dropping a few sugar cubes in her mug. She sits on the couch, distance between them. “Did you run out of talk shows?” She takes a sip of her tea and places it on the small table. On the television is a documentary about wildlife in Asia. 

“I don’t think they run during the weekends,” he notes. She is grateful for that fact. Roxanne doesn’t think she can handle any more distraught families and bizarre titles.

“Why do you even watch those stuff?” Documentaries about animal life are more tolerable than the day shows. 

“They’re interesting,” he simply replies. 

“Yea, but _why_ ? ‘I want to marry my cousin, and have his child’— how is _that_ interesting?” She recalls that 

“They know that it’s _wrong_ , Miss Ritchi. And yet they continue to do it. Even if it risks inbreeding, it’s all for the sake of _love_.” His lips twisted at the last word. Her mind quickly works on his point. His supervillainy is wrong and yet he continues to do it, risking so many life sentences all for the sake of love his hobby. Love of his hobby, she guesses. “Besides—isn’t that worth something reporting or interviewing if they were here, in Metrocity?” 

For heaven sakes— “No! Not even _remotely_ exciting or heartwarming!” Roxanne snips at him. “It’s just trashy. If you want trashy, go for one of our competing news channels.” Come to think about it, they might have the leading views. She tells herself it is not important. She shouldn’t get upset over lower ratings. 

“Exciting and heartwarming. In other words, Metro Mahn.” 

That wasn't a question, of course, but his tone is expecting an answer. She takes another sip of her tea, never minding the burn sliding down her throat. “Just heartwarming. You’re exciting.” She keeps her tea close to her mouth, watching the herd of elephants having fun in the source of water. In her peripheral vision, she sees him looking at her, mouth somewhat agape. He wants to say something? 

If he did, he doesn’t. Eyes going back to the television (and hopefully her words ringing about in his head). 

* * *

It's hard to explain the beautiful noises she wakes up to. She thinks she hears wind chimes. Metal whistling or chinking noises. It sounds too natural. She lifts her head up and locates where the sounds are coming from. 

Megamind. Sleep. Knees up to give respect to her space (or to not allow his feet to touch her). The sounds are coming from his mouth. He is… snoring. He’s _snoring_! And it’s so beautiful! Roxanne takes the opportunity to listen for a while. Who would ever imagine that snoring could be musical? 

She feels a buzz on her tummy. Fishing in her sweater pocket, she has her phone. Roxanne reads a message from Marilyn. _I’ll be there in 30 mins._ The time is an hour from when the women are planning to go out. Roxanne swears softly and makes her move. 

The snoring has stopped when she returns from getting dressed and little makeup. He remains asleep. So peaceful. So… innocent. Untouched by whatever troubles his mind. Before she knows what she’s doing, Roxanne is reaching out, caressing his cheek. Oh. Damn her curiosity. She’s passing his personal line. _Touching_ him. She’s touched him before, a number of times, but not his skin, protected by his leather clothing. His skin— is what you can imagine— is soft. She allows her thumb to graze his goatee. Roxanne freezes when Megamind snuggles closer to her hand. Granted he doesn’t wake, but his movement definitely causes her heart to pick up a beat. She slowly removes her hand from his cheek. 

Roxanne leaves to meet up with her best friend.

* * *

Tequila really works its magic. Two shots in and she’s feeling untensed. Another shot and she has the need to dance. A nice, flirty conversation with handsome ginger convinces her to say yes to a dance, after another shot of course. A discreet thumbs-up from Marilyn causes her to roll her eyes with a smile.

Dancing… actually feels good. She realizes she misses the physical touch of another person that’s the opposite sex. That familiar feeling in the pit of her tummy. That feeling between her legs as all the right places are being gripped and fondled. The colorful lights above, flashing, make time, and reality seems slow. She grids more into her partner, her hands encouraging his hands to explore more of her hips and upper body. He takes messages very well. And— and he’s very _responsive_.

She thinks she wants to bring him home and end this unplanned abstinence. But a blue face is a clear reminder of why she shouldn’t even _entertain_ the idea.

She turns around with the intention of throwing her arms around his neck. Instead, she loses her footing, albeit quickly catching herself, and bumping into a large figure in the process. She’s going to mumble a half-ass apology but the man pushes her. “Watch it, bitch.”

Roxanne opens her mouth to retort. Her partner steps in front of her. “That’s no way to talk to a lady.” Oh great. He’s playing the hero card. She can handle herself. Or— 

she can just let this play out. 

She wouldn’t have to say anything— despite the fact he called her out of her name. She has a bottle of mace spray and Marilyn’s truck. But really, she thinks it would be okay to step back and watch.

“Well, tell your _bitch_ to watch her step,” the larger man says. There’s a woman behind him, with an awful neon green wig. 

“Whoa, whoa!” Marilyn steps in between the two, facing the larger man. Roxanne tries to grab her hand which her friend swats away. “With all that attitude, I think you’re compensating for something,” she looks at the woman with the green wig. “Might wanna choose another partner, sweetheart, because he’s definitely not going to satisfy you.”

“Marilyn!” 

The man growls and throws and punches. Marilyn ducks just in time from the guy’s swing only for it to meet the ginger’s face. Marilyn is delivering a punch to the attacker’s groin. 

And all hell breaks loose.

* * *

“Dude, did— did we just get kicked out of a club?” Marilyn hiccups, glaring daggers at the bouncer who jerks his head to the side, indicating the girls and the man they fought to skedaddle before going back inside. The man flaps his arms and grumbles. He glances at the girls and walks away. 

Roxanne crosses her arms. “If you hadn’t opened your mouth, we would still be in there.” She was actually enjoying herself. She’s glad for the drinks because she can’t feel the chilly wind of the night. 

“YOOO! This is epic!”Marilyn screeches, making Roxanne wince. 

The doors open and the security guards throw another person out… _her partner_. He gets up and brushes off invisible dirt from his shirt. Then he flips the bird to the now-closed closed door. Roxanne laughs. His attention shifts to the women and he sheepishly chuckles. “Well, we’re most likely banned,” he jokes. 

Roxanne giggles. “That’s okay.”

“I've never seen you _here_ before— I’m Kevin.” He offers her hand to shake. Which she takes. And Marilyn fist-pound their joined hands, not wanting to be excluded from the greeting gesture. 

“Roxanne Ritchi,”

“I know— I mean, a lot of people know who you— you’re, you’re on tv.”

“I’m gonna call a cab now!” her best friend announces, walking away. She gives the two thumbs-ups and makes her call. Ah, typically best friend move. 

“I mean, it’s hard to not recognize Metro Man’s girlfriend," the man adds cautiously. 

She rolls her eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend. Why else would I be here, dancing on you?” He’s quite attractive— although she would prefer some facial hair. He looks young. A beard would do fine with his gingered hair. 

“Yeah,” Kevin rubs the back of his head. “I guess I didn’t read between the lines.”

“I read between the lines,” Roxanne says in a sultry voice, glancing between his groin and his face. A visible blush is found on Kevin’s cheeks, and Roxanne quickly deduces that he’s not used to provocative sallies. 

“May I have your number?" He is a kind gentleman, she confirms. 

“A guy who takes a punch like that, of course, can have my number!” 

“I’ve got a marker!” Marilyn yells, rushing a sharpie in the guy’s hand. “Not that I was listening to y’all conversation. B.T.W, Goose, I got a cab!” Marilyn skits away. 

“Your friend is very convenient.”

She laughs at that description because Marilyn is quite convenient. She takes the marker from the man's hand and scribbles her number on his hand, leaving a lingering touch on the wrists. 

“I think I should wait with you ladies for your cab.”

“Good idea.”

* * *

Roxanne places her hand on the wall to take off her heels, hissing when she realizes they were causing her slight pain. She picks up her heels and ventures further into her home. “Oh! You’re still up!” Light emitting from the television is lovely on his blue skin.

He stands and scratches his ear. She should have touched his ear before she left. Get the feel of his shape. Roxanne laughs at her thoughts. _How suggestive! Get it out of your head girl! He wouldn’t allow you to even do that. She shouldn't_ even try to think of anything remotely sexual with her roommate… ~~should~~ could thoughts like that be avoidable?

“Yes, I had to make sure you arrived home.”

Roxanne places her hand over her heart walking towards him, threatening his personal space. “Aww, really?” She sloppily plops down in his seat, giving no fucks about that she’s in this party dress in front of the villain. She wouldn't care if his eyes wander her outfit. “Aren’t you a doll,”

Megamind sniffs the air and makes a disgusted look. “You’re intoxicated,”

“Have you drank before? Besides water of course.”

“Never in my twenty-seven years of life.”

Roxanne frowns. He’s younger than her. Only by two years, but the fact doesn’t settle well. She’s getting old. She’s getting old. _She’s getting old._ Despite her well-paid job and a lovely apartment— in which she has her guest— there’s a lot she’s missing. It's another problem she'll have to consider later. So Roxanne snorts. “Virgin,” she jokes.

Pink hue flowers his cheek. Roxanne gasps because what she meant by _virgin_ , is his _virgin liver_. Not— “Really? I was— _really?_ The Master of Villainy still holds his innocence?”

He crosses his arms and his nose dramatically points to the ceiling. “I’ll have you know, Miss Ritchi, I’ve women _desperately_ climbing over each other just to get in my pants.” 

She snorts again. “I bet!" She places her hand on her cheek and winces. 

He squints at her and claps his hands three times. As on cue, the lights turn on. Roxanne swears at the sudden blindness. “You fucked with my lights?” Not that this isn't an unwelcome thing but what else has he fucked with?

He ignores her question. “What happened to your cheek?”

“Oh, pfft, some guy with self-esteem issues.”

“A guy…” His eyebrows are narrowing down, and his tone is as if he’d noticed a flaw in his invention before she does. “What does he look like?”

“I don’t know— I forgot, but not attractive. Why do you wanna know? Gonna hunt him down? Threaten him with your pet alligators?”

She doesn’t expect his answers to be in a sincere yet dark tone. “Yes. I don’t see why not. He hurt you.” 

Roxanne, she’s drunk, she knows, so she assumes it’s because of her inebriation that creates feelings of being valued. She sinks further into the sofa. “He has a fat nose. That’s as much as I can tell you.”

“It’s sufficient,” he says, offering his hand. 

She tells herself that it's because she’s drunk that she takes his hand and allows him to pull her to the bathroom and sit her on the toilet. He has a washcloth now, running it under cold water. He wrings the excess water out and Roxanne realizes _he doesn’t have his gloves._ His hands are slender. Fingernails are manicured, bigger, and longer than hers of course. She had figured that with all the tinkering with his big inventions they would be calloused, but… they actually quite the opposite. 

He kneels in front of her (like _kneels, one his knees, peering up at her),_ grabbing her chin and placing the cold cloth on her cheek. She closes her eyes tightly and hisses. Megamind mutters an apology. The new pain overwhelms the old pain, and soon that becomes fleeting. She peeks her eyes open and meets his. 

God, she’ll never be tired of those eyes. How round they are. How vibrant and… other-worldly the color are… 

“You don’t have a loose tooth do you?” he says quietly. 

She shakes her head, hoping she can get more feels for his hand. “You— you work well with your hands,” she whispers. Blame it on the alcohol. Blame it on the alcohol that she’s sharing _these_ thoughts with him. 

“They do more than create _awesome_ mass destruction to defeat your boyfriend.” 

“Or more like to show off to your ‘damsel in annoyance’,” 

“You— _enjoy_ the annoyance,” he says, softly, leaning up closer to her. If she presses an inch forward, their soft skin would meet. She thinks it wouldn’t be so bad. 

“Why are you whispering?” she asks between her giggles.

“Because you are,” he says smiling and Roxanne laughs. She loves his smile. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she blurts out, not whispering anymore. “He _never_ was.”

His hand slowly drops his hands. Those green orbs are staring in her eyes, searching for something. The truth. A sigh confirms that he found it but doesn’t have a response for her truth. And he should say something. Something like a…. a hint. Something she will take that and continue with her… well, she can’t put a finger on the word. But Megamind should say something… _correct._ And she’ll promise to continue. 

“I’ll get ice for your cheek, Miss Ritchi.” He gets up and leaves her alone in the bathroom.

Rejection. 

Failure. 

She doesn't know what she really wants. 

What a loser she is. 

* * *

He’s not in bed when she wakes. His side is untouched meaning he hadn’t slept in the same bed as her. And that's okay. She’ll relish this moment. 

She still remembers last night. Only the major parts. And his bare hands. Roxanne touches her cheek. It's still a bit sore. Better than yesterday’s feelings. He was very caring and careful treating her. She’s sure he would still be caring if she was throwing up all over the pace. Good thing that didn’t happen. Roxanne reaches over to her dresser for her phone. She doesn't remember placing her phone there and climbing in bed. She's still in her party dress. But all her jewelry is off, arranged neatly on her dresser. 

Three text messages. Two from Marilyn saying that she got home safely and that she broke a few nails and they should go to the salon sometime. Another from an unknown sender. She opens it. 

_this is Kevin. had fun last nite w/u. would u like 2 hang out sumtime?_

Roxanne looks at the empty space next to her. And she looks at her phone, bottom lip between her teeth. It’s not like she is _with_ him. They’re just sharing a bed and living space until she figures him out. And her life shouldn’t have to stop because of that. She shouldn’t feel guilty as she taps in her message. 

_Had fun too. How about Tuesday after work?_

She glances again at the empty space. Expecting a guilt feeling… which doesn’t come. She wants… she wants— 

(Roxanne hits send)

—that guilt feeling.

But it doesn’t come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support! Tell me ya thoughts!


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM NOT GOING TO PAINT METRO MAN'S CHARACTER AS AN ASSOHLE... after this chapter. oh, the plans I have for this dude.

Three pounds. 

Three pounds she has gained. 

Roxanne isn’t the type to overly upset up her weight— and she knows that she has to buy _real_ food, which she is planning to do today. But seeing this— it’s unsettling. It’s unhealthy. She stares at the numbers behind the small glass of her scale, hand on her hip, and a fingernail in her mouth. Okay, once a week, outside food. She can strive for no outside food for six days. No more Chinese food, no more pizza. Make and take lunch to work. Try to avoid the coffee shop. Make coffee at home. She does have a rather expensive machine that she barely used. She just needs beans, whip cream, coffee cream— 

The door opens and steps in is Megamind. 

He freezes when he sees her. So does she. Holding her breath. Because. god. Because there’s a black towel wrapped protectively around his waist (and his head— _fucking why though?_ ). Water drips down on his blue torso (he has dark blue nipples, she notes). Down to a... peeking V? He’s skinny, but dammit, don’t let that fool you to think that he isn’t muscular. He’s lean. Almost athletic. Her eyes widen when his eyes travel the length of her body. She’s only clad in an orange bra and panties. Very exposed. And so is he. 

“Sorry! I thought you— _sorry_.” He doesn’t meet her eyes as he steps back and silently shuts the door… 

Well, that was that. 

_I’m not bothered. I’m not bothered_ , Roxanne repeats to herself while stepping off the scale and looks for something to wear. _Not bothered. Not even bothered by last night’s events. It happened. And it’s today._

Dressed simply in a blue shirt and black jeans Roxanne walks out of her (their?) room with her music player and pink earphones in hand. Megamind is standing to the side of her door. At the sight of her, he averts his eyes to her shoes. She tilts her head to gain access to his eyes. “I’ll be back in an hour,” she tells him and she doesn’t know why. His soap smells _good_. 

“Yes— I understand if you—”

“I’m not running away from you.” She doesn’t know why she says _that_. Maybe because he needs to hear it. Hear it from someone, and she’s here, so why not? Her words persuade him to pout at her. “I’m just going to the supermarket for food. So I’ll be home in an hour.”

“I’ll… be here?” he says awkwardly. 

Go. Go. Continue on, with the walking out of her apartment and buying groceries. That’s what she should do. “You should go out sometime. In the open air— ”

His mouth curls in distaste. “And what? Feel the sunshine on my face? Go feed bread to _pig-ons_?”

Roxanne frowns, feeling a bit amused. “You mean pigeons?”

“That’s what I said,” he snaps and she rolls her eyes. “Why would I go outside— when _here_ is better?”

 _Here, with me?_ That’s a question she will not ask because of his words: _Nowhere else to go._ Meaning she was the last option. He definitely could have gone someplace else. “You’ve been cooped inside for an entire week. It’s not… healthy.”

“I’m pretty and robust, thank you.”

“Don’t— don’t you feel like you’re in prison?” she points out. “Just sitting here, and watching tv. Not able to go whenever you like?” 

“This is not a prison Miss Ritchi. I always break out of prison. I _choose_ to be here,” he says. “And I like it here better than prison.”

“What about your home?”

“The prison—” he stops. Then shakes his head. “The _secret evil_ lair isn’t… available…”

…Whatever that means. “...ooookay. Well! I better get going. Before something crazy happens.” Like talking to a blue supervillain who is in nothing but a towel. She smirks. “You should go put something on.”

Megamind blinks. Glance down as if he has forgotten his _current_ attire (she’ll admit, she forgot about it as she was talking to him). The blue alien quickly sends her a glare, pinks tinting his cheeks, before retreating to her room. 

* * *

Didn’t bother to take a cab to the nearest train station. The walk is nice. September weather is always amiable. A very calm Sunday morning contradicting Saturday night. She needs this day to be… still. With normal day-to-day things. Like grocery shopping! 

Of course, that can’t happen, when it’s desired. 

Roxanne’s eyes search for a specific song, one upbeat song to prompt her feet to move faster, on her music player, when a sudden solid force smacks her front side, sending her backward to asphalt. 

She doesn’t care about the cause of her fall. “Oh, no,” she whispers, picking up the mini player and turning it over. The screen is cracked. A crack wouldn’t have mattered much, as it lights up if it weren’t for the functions of the buttons _not working_. She looks up. A man. With a mask and a duffel-bag, stuffed with jewelry (some golden chains poking out). “Oh, that’s fucking cliche!” she snaps, heat flushing her face. 

The man shrugs in a cocky manner. Roxanne wants nothing more than to kick in a place where it hurts— _see if he’s cocky afterward—_ The theft walks backward, “Maybe watch where you’re going?” then turns around, running— 

Straight into the chest of Metro Man. He stands like an angel. Literally. All white, broad shoulders, a soft smile on his face. Fists on his hips. Sunshine peeking behind his form. He’s just missing wings and halo. Shoot. He doesn’t need the wings. He can already fly. Wings would just heighten his image. An image she wants out of her head pronto. 

Roxanne rolls her eyes. 

The thief makes an attempt to run in a different direction. On impulse, she sticks out her foot, successfully tripping him. At that moment, three cop cars pull up, lights moving against natural sunlight, and five cops step out of the car. 

Wayne offers his hand for her to grab. Oh please. She won’t be seen as a victim outside of the realms of Megamind’s doing. Besides, she’s already done that yesterday. Roxanna gets up on her own. If she can escape from the scene, the police officers wouldn’t have to ask her questions. _Metro Man_ would be distracted by giving his reports, as well as talking to other reports giving a scoop. She’s off duty. No need to be involved in this. Any other time, she definitely would’ve taken this opportunity. More stats to her status. Allow the stats to someone else. Who fucking cares if her station doesn't first get the exclusive opportunity. She turns away, a different direction, to the subways. 

“Roxanne, wait. Please.”

Oh! damn his kind, cool, heroic voice. She slows her walking immediately so that he can meet her steps. “What?”

“We haven’t spoken in _months_ ,” he whispers. There aren’t any cameras around, but there sure is a lot of people, cooing and praising Metro Man. He doesn’t pay any attention to them. His eyes are on her. “Where are you going?”

“Grocery shopping, daily day-to-day life things,” she shrugs. 

“Can we go somewhere before? You do your shopping. I want— need to talk to you.”

“Can’t we do this over the phone?”

He interrupts her path. “Please.”

Roxanne sighs in defeat.

* * *

And— Roxanne hopelessly drops the music player on the table with a heavy sigh. “It’s useless.” It was a rather expensive music player, gifted from her mother. 

“I can have it replaced,” says Wayne. He’s sitting across from her, in the small wooden chair. She imagines it must be uncomfortable for him yet he makes no hint that it does. A half-eaten meatball sub sandwich is in one hand— another full sub on a plate in front of him waiting to be devoured. Roxanne glares at him because of his suggestion. He freezes, eyes widening before he swallows the food in his mouth. “But you don’t like it when people throw money at you— specifically me.”

“It was a gift, Wayne,” she tells him. There are people passing by, standing idle, with their phones and cameras out, taking pictures. No one steps in the small restaurant. The manager (or owner) temporarily closes for the comfort of the two. All credits to Wayne’s star power.

He hums. “So… long time, no see?”

“That’s cliche,” she retorts, the second time she's using this word. “Even for you.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “You haven’t stopped glaring at me since we came here.”

“I wonder why,” she hisses, leaning over the table.

“Okay. Okay— I get it. You’re angry at me—”

“ _Angry_? Fucking _livid_ is more like it!”

He places his sub down and uses a napkin to wipe his mouth. “I know why, Roxanne. I know why. And you have _every_ right to be. But you have to know— it wasn’t my intention.”

Roxanne dramatically rolls her eyes with a scoff. “Oh, god, Wayne! You know you’re a lot stronger than him. He didn’t _move_ . He _didn’t_ ! You punch him too hard and he didn’t move! The look on Minion’s face— I can’t… I can’t…” She blinks away the tears. Megamind is at her apartment. Physically okay. Physically… safe. Physically _alive_ and whilst the tears are a nice touch to her play of keeping this secret, she can’t help but wonder why this feels so real. Her anger, of course, is real. She expected the tears and the ache in her heart when thinking of that punch to be an act but it’s not. “Have you seen him?” she asks. “It’s been months.” 

“I was going to ask you,” he says softly. 

She shakes her head and casts her eyes down, twisting her mouth. “I think he’s planning something big.” Hopefully, it’s not true whilst he’s sitting in her apartment. She would feel… betrayed. 

“He’s not.”

God, she’s about to sound so petulant. “Because _you_ didn’t pull back your punch!”

He frowns. “Do you think I don’t care Roxanne?” One thing she learned about Wayne is that he’s incapable of anger. Literally. A secret he had shared with her. An angry Wayne is not a picture she wants in her head. The closest thing to the anger he feels is confusion (not frustration which is the amalgamation of annoyance and confusion). “I know I punched him hard,” Wayne continues. “I deserve whatever poop is thrown at me. I won’t justify my actions, but you must know, it was _not_ my intention to hurt him.”

He sighs and runs his fingers in his hair. His salt peppered hair. Not the healthy stylish brown. His chin supports stubble. Roxanne feels pity for a split a second. Maybe Megamind isn’t the only one going through things. 

“I feel bad for the little guy,” Wayne says. “I wasn’t always fair to him. This was way before this silly superhero and supervillain charade.”

She squints. “What are you saying? You two _knew_ each other— _before_?”

Wayne nods and takes a moment to finish the sandwich. “Since elementary school. Is this… off the record?”

“This has been off the record since you punched him.”

“Roxanne…” he sighs.

“So, elementary school?” she prompts.

“Right, right. Um, we knew each other since elementary school. I was popular… because y’know the powers. The kids loved me. The teacher loved me. Everyone did.”

“ _Does,”_ corrects Roxanne. 

“I got all the attention because I was different. He was different...but _too_ different.”

Wayne's advantage is that he is the epitome of a perfect human. People can get with the lay-back, handsome superman-type superhero. Megamind on the other hand is _blue._ That's racist or discriminatory— right? The first noticeable trait, that can cast him out. Then it’s a big head. Followed by his smarts. And the list can go on. 

Wayne continues. “Megamind was an outcast. I would show off my powers and impress everyone around me. He would try to do the same. It always seemed to turn into a disaster though. Anything— _everything—_ he did, no matter how smart it was, it just _failed_. In a way, I made sure he knew he was bad. Putting him time out or tattle-telling. I guess you can call me a bully?”

“You’re a bully Wayne.”

“I wasn’t the only one!” he protests. Oh! Now, who's being petulant! And pathetic! “the teachers were bad to him. Scold him. Praised me when I put him in time-out. Made sniddy comments about him and how I was the golden boy.”

 _Even the teachers outcast him_ , Roxanne thinks bitterly. He had it so bad as a child. She tries to picture him as a young boy with an unusual size head. Roxanne entertains the idea that one day she’ll ask for pictures of his childhood. To get a visual sense of what he was like in his younger days. And maybe he'll actually share that part of his life. 

“He snapped one day. Turn everyone blue with a paint bomb from the supply closet.”

Roxanne snorts. Served them right. 

“I thought I would never have to see him again,” Wayne continues. “Fate works in mysterious ways. He attended my high school.”

 _Megamind. In highschool_. She always figured he skipped high school and college and self-taught himself. Well, he probably still self-taught himself a lot of things… 

“He was— _annoying_ — no really!” he quickly says, noticing her small glare. A glare she wasn't aware of until now. “He really was! Not! that I blame him. We were all teenagers. Going through an identity crisis. You can imagine how terrible that could have been for him.” Fair point because she can. Having to be an alien, a teenager, and trying to fit in with human teenagers. Oh, how horrible it must've been for him… and insufferable for those around her (if she will be honest). “He was smarter than everyone in the school. Even the teachers! I remember some famous scientist, I forgot what field, visited the school as a special guest. Megamind embarrassed him, exposing all of his flaws in his research and… and other sciency-stuff. He embarrassed the school.” A chuckle threatens his sentence. “He single-handedly beat the school records of having the most detentions.”

“Was— did Minion attend school?”

Wayne nods. “He didn't have a bad reputation though. Some of the kids tried to bully him but Megamind didn’t allow it.”

She really wishes to see Minion. See how he is doing. She has always known for those two to be inseparable. “I suppose you haven’t seen him either?”

Wayne shakes his head and finishes off the rest of his sub. Roxanne prays that with his sloppily eating no specks of food lands on her skin. She will lose her mind. He coughs awkwardly (thank god he covers his mouth with a fist). “Um, highschool— it wasn’t pleasant for him. But he finished. He didn’t go to college. I didn’t go to college. I was planning to— for music. Hero life wasn’t planned— the— the city gave me my name, y’know. I didn’t choose the name. It sorta just happened when I saved a bunch of people from a bank robbery. I didn’t even _choose_ this hero's life. But I went along with it. Then Megamind came along a few years later. At least he created his name—” he grumbles. “— in all honesty, I forgot his… nevermind. Anyway, he started challenging me. And the city egged it on. I didn’t know what to do with my life before Metro Man. I was just super and rich. So I went along with the rivalry. 

“It was— serious at first. I thought I was making a change by putting criminals behind bars. Later on the years, I realized crime was decreasing. And it would only be Megamind who I repeatedly arrested. It took me a while but— but I think because of him, the crime rate is low. I don’t understand how… being the ‘Evil Overlord’ plays a huge part in it. I just continued with the rivalry. It soon became a game. Nothing but fun. A silly charade and I continued because I feel like I owe it to him after all the stuff I put him through. It— I figured the game we play— gave _him,_ not me, purpose. I always thought it was about me.”

Bigger picture. There’s always a bigger picture to everything. She intends to find Megamind’s bigger picture.

“I continued this for him. This city. And now— I can’t anymore. I’m getting old, Roxanne. Look!” He points to his hair. “I’m greying.” 

“People grey when they are stressed,” she tries to reason. 

“No, no, it’s not— my powers, as amazing as that they are, have consequences. When I use my super-speed, I age twice as fast during that time. One second in real-time equals almost an entire day during the speedy time. The more I fly, the more I feel the motions of it, later on, when I’m in bed. It’s… distracting. I have to be alert during flight, so I’m alert at night. I’m so tired of this. I… want a life. A life I can choose.”

Just as Megamind, Wayne did not have a choice. Funny how these two aliens relate so much and yet dedicate themselves to separate ends of the spectrum of good and evil. How long did it take Wayne to realize he had a choice? Before or after the punch— (which she has not forgotten and if he thinks that telling his personal crisis will justify his actions— then he should change tactics)? Does Megamind even know he has a choice? It’s possible. After all, he is at her apartment with no immediate plan to kidnap her. Then again, from what Wayne has told her, being an outcast all of his life and being accepted only for his villainy—Maybe Megamind hasn’t figured out his choice. _It sorta just happened._ And he (Wayne) was sucked into it. Like a normal celebrity’s greed for more money, fame, and idolizations, that normal celebrity's greed will eventually be her/his down. She pities him. Roxanne reaches over to place her hand on his gloved hand. “No one said this superhero thing was a lifetime gig.”

His face falls. “No one and yet _everyone_ expects me to be.” 

She shakes her head. “So what if others expect _you_ to be. They do not dictate your life. It’s _yours_ and you can’t _please_ everyone. And you have been doing that for years!” And believe or not, the same for Megamind especially with the pleasing part. Why else, Michigan always has an annual three percent increase in tourist visits. Not just to see Metro Man, but the villain also! And he doesn’t have to do the supervillain gig for all of his life. Maybe he’s going through the same as Wayne. “You can quit if you want to. No one can stop you.” 

“Yeah… yeah! You’re right! I— I was thinking how I should go about retiring and Megamind. I thought about faking my death to finally give him what he wants: to win—”

“ _That_ would be very asshole of you,” Roxanne says, folding her arms across her chest. “You didn’t think that through, did you?”

“Uh no? That’s a bad idea?”

“No shit. And _mean_. He doesn’t want to _kill_ you, Wayne. Besides the destruction and terrorizing he’s actually never killed anyone. Not even a casualty. Why would you put that on him?”

“I don’t know. I figured I want to die a hero. A hero that everyone could remember as… and so I can keep my logo.”

Un- _fucking_ -believable. Roxanne shakes her head with a sigh and pinches the bridge of her nose. “ _Or_! You could just _announce_ it, like a normal person.” The gears begin kicking. “A formal announcement. We can set an interview. The station’s views are low anyway.” This ground-breaking news will be the boost Fred wants. That’s two problems solved with one stone. “Announce your retirement. You can still keep your logo. That’s a better idea rather than faking your death, ultimately making Megamind immorally evil. It’s a good idea, right?”

“Yes. it’s a good idea…. Thank you, Roxanne… I appreciate this.”

Roxanne glares at him. “Yeah, well I still don’t forgive you for punching him. He’s still missing.” She pokes the buttons of her music player miserably. 

“Then I’ll help you find him!” he says with a bright smile. “We can work together.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just that Marilyn said the same thing.”

“Who’s Marilyn?”

“My best friend. You’ve seen her before.”

“I see a lot of people, Roxanne.”

“Yeah well, she’s— argh, nevermind. But thanks. We can go looking for him later.” Great. Great! Just what she needs. A super-powered alien in the quest of looking for the blue alien, when he’s right under her roof. She— some part of her never wants Marilyn or Wayne or anyone for that matter of fact to find the blue alien. And not because discovering him comfortable in her apartment will cause great confusion and embarrassment. No. For this once, she is not important to his plot. “I just… wanna buy groceries and go home.”

“I can help with that too! Carry your bags to your balcony… can I finish this," he indicates his sub sandwich "first?”

“Sure. Whatever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School, especially remote learning is a hassle. 
> 
> The next chapter will be up soon. thank you for the patience and positive feedback.


End file.
